


Dreamons

by junipersand



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Comedy, Demons, Demons exist, no beta we die like men, oooo demons are basically cats but with magic and fire and wings in human form, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:35:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27265081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junipersand/pseuds/junipersand
Summary: Tommy and Tubbo hunt for Dreamons. But maybe they should focus on Bad sneezing fire and not Dream’s terrible sleeping habits?
Comments: 8
Kudos: 232





	Dreamons

_“Dreamons! Dreamons! Dreamons! Dreamons!”_

Fundy clamped his fox ears shut. It was quite a sight, for him to cover the top sides of his head instead of regular human ears. “Are they still at it?” he demanded, nose scrunched up with irritation. He cast glowers towards the younger two, who were the source of all the commotion and noise. “I thought after being banished from Manburg would actually teach that kid to learn how to shut the fuck up.”

Wilbur followed Fundy’s gaze to the two energetic teens who ran around holding maps and lanterns. They were eagerly plotting up traps around a base and drawing on the map with red and green crayons. Seeing them as energetic as ever was a rare occurrence, since they never had the chances to be children since they were born.

“Dreamons?” Fundy demanded. “What the fuck are those?”

Tubbo and Tommy’s heads turned to him like startled chickens, eyes shimmering with fascination and enthusiasm. Tubbo thrust his crayon into the air. “Well, me and Tommy have been doing research in the Archives—” He was cut off by Tommy who hit his head with his knuckle.

“Will you stop it with the Archives!” Tommy shrieked. “That is not what happened. Anyways, we’ve been reading up books that we stole from Skeppy’s base. We saw these things called Dreamons and we’re going to catch one!”

“Skeppy,” Fundy snipped. “The diamond man who wears a fur suit? Are you sure you should trust anything that comes from him?”

“Dreamons?” Wilbur quizzed. “Like, demons but with Dream?”

Tommy and Tubbo shut up. They then turned to each other with gaping expressions, the gears turning in their head as if a mutual idea was being produced. Wilbur swore he saw a light bulb light up above their heads and he started debating whether if he needed to call Philza and an ambulance before they break their own necks.

“That makes so much sense!” Tubbo exclaimed. “Dream is a demon! So _that’s_ why they’re called dreamons!”

That made absolutely no sense.

“Hey look,” Fundy murmured, pointing to the outside of Tommy’s base, “it’s the man himself. Why don’t you just go ask him?” He was looking at Dream, who was running from George with flaming arrows on his tail. George and Sapnap soon followed, holding a crossbow and a sword each.

That was supposed to be the man that defeated three experienced players multiple times and won.

Tommy shot a glare at him. “That would just defeat the entire point of our crusade,” he huffed. “We’re going to confront him like _men_.”

Wilbur snorted. “Not with that non-existing chest hair you wouldn’t.”

It was clear that nobody was going to stop the younger two. The fact was made clear when they chased after the Dream Team clad in cloaks and camo paint, carrying backpacks full of nets, cartons of chocolate milk and fruit snacks holding the book and dried leaves. How they were going to pull this off without either of them being murdered, nobody knew.

Tommy and Tubbo planted themselves outside the Dream Team’s base, submerged in water and breathing through snorkels. The top half of their heads stuck from the lake, the lights from the windows glistening on the surface.

“Do you think Sapnap and George knows about Dream’s a demon?” Tubbo garbled, producing bubbles from his mouth.

Tommy scoffed, bubbling. “Of course they don’t. Look at them.” Sapnap balanced cards on Dream’s head when he fell asleep on the table. George drew male reproductive organs on the blond’s mask with red sharpie. “They’re oblivious! Those poor souls. They’ll probably get eaten up anytime now. Big D’s just fattening them up.”

“Oh no!” Tubbo sank further into the water. “I mean, I’d feel bad for George – but I’m sure I won’t care if Sapnap gets turned into dinner. Bet he doesn’t even taste good. Like, Dream will just spit him back out.”

They whipped back to the window when they heard a crash. Their eyes widened when they saw Dream snapping awake, carrying both Sapnap and George by the collars of their shirts. The two giggled like children at their leader’s expense, then yelped when Dream dropped them to the floor with thuds. It was difficult to take them seriously, especially when Dream’s newly redecorated mask and cards littering his jacket.

Tommy spluttered, body shooting from the water as he fished out his notebook. He furiously scribbled down notes as Tubbo flipped through the pages of the book.

“Dreamons have super strength!” Tubbo wondered aloud, shoving the open book in Tommy’s face. There, written in scratchy handwriting, was the line: _Demons commonly possess strength that overpowers humans._ “Or, I think it is, but I don’t think ‘Dracos hasth superb stronk’ is the correct terminology.”

“Have any of you two seen my glasses?”

They turned to the newcomer behind them, still dripping wet and covered in seagrass. A fish leaped upwards and landed on Tommy’s head. It was none other than BadBoyHalo, who was squinting at them.

“Uh, no,” Tommy said. “We have not seen your glasses. We’re so strong that we don’t need the help of sand to help us see.”

“Yeah,” Tubbo agreed.

Bad rubbed his eyes. “Tommy? Tubbo? Is that you?” He blinked elsewhere. “What are you two doing here in the middle of the night?”

Tommy raised his hands dramatically. The notebook promptly plopped into water and the fish landed back to the lake. “No! It is I, Technoblade!” he boomed. “Give me all your potatoes! Blood. Orphans. Murder.”

“And ’tis I!” Tubbo chorused. “Captain Sparklez! The greatest man to ever live!”

Bad, despite being blind as a bat, did not look the slightest bit amused. He crossed his arms and turned around, only to hit his head on the light pole. At the same time, Tubbo and Tommy whipped back to observe the trio, who seemed to be in a dilemma of who gets the last chocolate cookie on the plate.

Behind them, Bad lifted the light pole with a hand and looked for his glasses. When he found none, he set it back down, creating a miniature thud that resonated throughout the ground. The water around Tommy and Tubbo vibrated, but they didn’t realize even as they scrambled to return to their base. The Dream Team, however, did. They were spinning the bottle and it landed on Sapnap, who shrieked in victory as he snatched the last chocolate cookie, drinking in George’s spiteful glare and Dream’s exasperated sigh.

_“Don’t you feel like there’s someone watching us?” George asked, keeping his voice down as Sapnap munched on his cookie._

_Sapnap and Dream nodded simultaneously. Sapnap dribbled crumbs on his lap. “I thought I was going crazy,” Dream admitted._

_Sapnap finished the last of his cookie and sucked crumbs from his fingers. “Hopefully it’s not TommyInnit.”_

The next morning, Tommy and Tubbo were well-rested and miraculously healthy, in spite of spending a good portion of time in a pool of freezing water. At the crack of dawn, they gathered their hunting gear, and immediately set out to spy on the green-obsessed man once more.

“Let’s see.” Tommy opened to a page he remembered reading before. He put his finger on a specific sentence. “‘Demons are nocturnal. They roam the night but rest in the light of the sun.’ Let’s see if Big D decides to take a late nap.”

They raced on the wooden path, catching the golden hours of sunrise, and only stopped when the saw a figure in front of them. They stopped in their paths to see George in full-clad netherite, looking like he just stumbled out of bed with his goggles misaligned and hair frazzled.

“Yo!” Tommy greeted him with as much enthusiasm as he can, and as loud as his vocal cords could go. George jumped in his skin and drew his sword, only to put it aside when he realized it was the gremlin and not a stray creeper. “What’s up, Gogy? Still sleepy?”

George put his hand on his chest as he calmed himself down. “TommyInnit,” he breathed. “Why are you up at this hour? The sun literally just rose.”

Tubbo shrugged. “Uhh,” he drawled. “It’s nothing. We just want to know whether if Dream sleeps because he is possibly a demon.”

The man blinked at him. “Dream is a what?”

“WHAT HE MEANS IS,” Tommy bellowed, interjecting abruptly, “is that we care about Big D’s sleep schedule. What kind of an archnemesis would we be if our nemesis isn’t in top shape when we destroy him? You’re going to make us look bad! We may be teenagers but we care about our dignity and image, Gogy. Unlike you! Shame on you. Did you even change from your pyjamas when you put on your armor this fine morning?”

If George hadn’t woken up five minutes ago, he would’ve questioned the kid’s sanity. But he did, and he didn’t have the energy to deal with any of this crap.

“Dream went to bed before I left the house,” he grumbled. “Sapnap’s still asleep.” He frowned. “Are you going to steal our stuff? Is that why you’re asking me this?”

“Of course not, Gogy. On our British blood honor.” Tommy promised him. “I’ll even put Fundy on the line. For today, at least, I swear we’re not going to even touch any of your belongings.”

George raised an eyebrow, but he relented nonetheless. He crossed his arms as he greeted Bad absentmindedly, who was yawning and slumping as he dragged himself into the woods. George frowned and chased after Bad, abandoning and ending the conversation with the two teens.

Tommy gaped, haven’t expected such an easy pass. “Come on, Tubbo. This is our chance.” They bolted on the path and reached the Dream Team’s base at full speed.

At Dream’s base, Tommy and Tubbo managed to sneak in, and they even avoided Sapnap who passed out on the couch wearing armor. His sword was on the ground next to him, seemingly fallen from his hands when he fell asleep. Tiptoeing, the two dreamon hunters made their way upstairs, making the least sound as possible. They stopped when they reached a closed door, with faint snores emitting from within.

Opening the door with utmost caution, Tubbo winced as the creak from the hinges pierced his ears. He glanced into the room, which was dark as the curtains covered the windows, and a familiar figure knocked out on the bed. Tubbo frowned – Dream sleeps with his mask on? How does that man even breathe?

Tommy scribbled down more notes in his new book. He’d gotten it after he ruined the last one by dropping it in a lake. Tubbo had to drag him out when Dream turned in his sleep.

_“Okay, George takes the first shift, Sapnap takes second, I’ll take last,” Dream instructed, handing polished armor to his friends. “Each shift is three hours long. If anything happens, call the others immediately and don’t try to face the threat alone.”_

_This would’ve been a sound strategy to ensure their safety, if it wasn’t for Skeppy and Antfrost tearing down every corner and crevice in search for Bad’s glasses. Apparently, they were getting restless after Bad ran through a wall that they just renovated._

_Suffice to say, the Dream Team did not get much sleep that night._

“That’s two strikes in the Dreamon category, Tubbo!” Tommy crossed off _super strength_ and _nocturnal_ off the list. There were more points listed, still untested and untouched. “Only one more. Three strikes and he’s out!”

“What is this, an American football game?” Tubbo muttered, but there was a smile on his face anyway. They were another step closer to the truth and exposing Dream’s darkest secret. “What’s next?”

Tommy scanned the list. Most of these were outlandish and downright unnatural, including _fire breath_ , _glowing eyes_ , _creates and inhabits large underground caves_ , and even _catlike_. Those were not only stereotypical, but at the same time stupid. He skipped those and chose the grounded ones.

“‘Curiosity kills the demon. Demons would do anything to understand something, even if it is completely worthless,’” Tommy read. “Or we can go with, ‘Demons are dangerous when provoked.’”

“Ooh.” Tubbo nodded. “Dream was quite scary when he threatened us to give up L’Manburg.”

Tommy shuddered at the memory. “God, please, don’t bring that up.”

“But neither of those can be proven easily, can they?” Tubbo asked. “What are we gonna do? Wave catnip in his face and hope he pounces on it like some cat? Are we going to take off his mask to see whether if his eyes have glowstick juice? Or should we throw him in a ravine and see if he turns it into his personal bedroom?”

Tommy shook his head, flipping through more pages. There were drawings and more paragraphs, but he couldn’t read all of them. He would rather be kicked off an island by Technoblade—of all people—as he screamed Spanish that he learned in the seventh grade. What would he say next? _What is the chemical formula of a potato? It takes 69 years for someone to be a potato god? I love to kill orphans because what are they gonna do? Tell their parents?_ He didn’t want to be terrorized by someone, let alone a language from the country of crappy hats and moustaches.

Then, at the final page, something caught Tommy’s attention as he read the short paragraph. It wasn’t as long as the others, but it was enough. He waved Tubbo over and leaned to whisper the plan. The brunet was skeptical at first, but his face burst into a massive grin as his friend explained further.

_“Ugh. I think I smell the stench of a Bitch Boy.” Sapnap sat up from the sofa, his helmet dangling from his head. “That bitch better have not touch any of my stuff.”_

The moment night came, the Dream Team rose with it. Except for George, who was drowsy and in dire need of sleep. Tommy and Tubbo had been preparing for this very moment, holding filled sacks each.

They waited in a bush near the Dream Team’s base, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Sweat rolled down Tommy’s forehead as he heard a gate opening—

“NOW!” Tommy shrieked, shooting from the bush. Tubbo rose from the bush across, leaves stuck in his hair, holding out the sack he brought. Dream jumped in his skin as he drew his axe, more surprised than mortified as the floor around him was surrounded by fresh carrots and potatoes.

Dream stood still, frozen with his axe semi-prepared. They’ve found his ultimate weakness! Vegetables!

“Got you!” Tubbo cheered, responding to Tommy’s high-five. “We are victorious. We caught the Dreamon. We caught the Dreamon!”

Dream stared at the two, his lips pursed in a tight line. They didn’t know what his face was like, since it was covered by that blasted mask, but Tommy noticed the red tint spreading to his neck and the tips of his nose.

“Suck dick, Dream!” Tommy sharked. “We caught you! Confess, you bloody Dreamon – _demon_!”

“No—” Dream finally found his voice that had become an octave higher. He lowered his axe and stared at the vegetables with horror. “ _How_ did you know that?”

“A dreamon hunter never reveals his secrets!”

“It was this book!” Tubbo thrust the book in front of Dream. Tommy screeched in disbelief behind him. “It told us everything we needed to know. Please don’t eat George and Sapnap! Or us, for that matter.”

Dream snatched the book and hid it behind his back. “You never saw anything.” He turned and stomped back to his base, ready to burn the book the moment he got his hands on some flint and steel.

“Hey, Dream!” Tommy lunged after the blond. “Are you mad that we got you figured out? Give me back that book. _I_ found it, not you!”

Dream’s voice was tight. Whether from embarrassment or anger, Tommy didn’t know. “Tommy, I’m not willing to play games with you today. Leave before I make you.” His pace grew faster, doing the best to create distance between him and the teenager.

Just before Dream reached his base, their attention was abruptly brought to a different attraction: Bad, who stood at the gate, blocking their path. He found his glasses, and the proof of such was the pair in front of his eyes. At night, the glass and silver rim reflected a soft silver light, but there were silver lights around them.

“Hey, Dream!” Bad greeted. He was quick to take note of the book in his hands. His eyes widened in recognition, a faint glow casting on his cheeks. “Is that what I think it is?”

Dream groaned. “Bad, please, no. Don’t do it.”

He snipped the book from Dream’s hands like a swift breeze. “This was your diary!” he said happily. “ _Dreamons_. Remember when you couldn’t pronounce your Rs and you called yourself a _dweamon_?”

Tommy choked on his laughter. Tubbo gaped.

Dream was definitely blushing now. “Bad, not in front of them, please.”

“Wait—” Tommy raised his hands. “Dream, this was your diary?” He put two and two together. “Does this mean that you ARE a demon?”

Dream shot to him. “Who told you that?”

“The book did! You have superstrength, sleeps during daytime, scared of carrot and potato stew—what more evidence do you want?”

Bad sneezed abruptly, fire erupting from his mouth. It singed Dream’s jacket, but Tommy felt the heat rush on his skin.

Tubbo was gawking now.

Tommy stared at BadBoyHalo, who was rubbing his nose with the back of his hand.

“Wait a second.”

**EXTRA SCENES**

_What happened when George ran off after talking to Tommy and Tubbo:_

In the woods, George scratched his helmet as he watched Bad climb up a tree and lie face first on a trunk. “You sure you don’t want to stay over and sleep on a bed?”

Bad muttered incoherent nonsense and rolled from the trunk. But instead of falling, he hung upside down with his tail curled around the trunk. “G’night, George,” he mumble, hugging his knees as a pair of wings wrapped around him like a hanging cocoon.

_Young Dream:_

“Bad, why can you lift the couch and I can’t?” A seven-year-old Dream asked his caretaker, who was holding up the couch to vacuum the floor beneath it. They followed the opposite schedule from everyone else—they woke during the night and slept during the day. Dream could’ve be like any regular human and sleep at nights, but he chose to follow Bad’s routine.

Bad hummed. “Hmm, because you’re not strong enough just yet,” he replied, then went back to cleaning.

The next night, Bad woke to Dream doing pushups in his room.

_BadBoyHalo’s Sleeping Habits:_

“Dude.” Skeppy poked Bad’s cocoon-like state with a stick. “You look like a fucking caterpillar.”

Bad’s head peeked from his wings. It was difficult to take him seriously when he was hanging upside down and looking like a burrito. He was still drowsy and was eager to return to his sleep. “Language.”

“You sleep like a bat.”

“Because I like it. Go away and let me sleep, Geppy.”

Skeppy whined like a child and poked Bad some more. Eventually he gave up and left to do his own thing. But the moment he left, Antfrost returned to base and saw one giant black cocoon at their garden tree. He screamed and threw the bucket of lava he was holding.

… he was fortunate that Bad was lava-proof. The grass and tree was not.

Since then, Bad elected to sleep at the forests near Dream’s base.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah hehe
> 
> Anyways, in case you haven't noticed, Bad raised Dream when he was young. :D


End file.
